


Into the Dark

by HiNerdsItsCat (HiLarpItsCat)



Series: Uncertain Point of View [18]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Being Really Vague in the Tags Because Spoilers, Darth Vader Redemption, Episode: s01e15 Fire Across the Galaxy, Episode: s02e21-22 Twilight of the Apprentice, Fair Warning This Gets a Little Dark, Gen, Happy Ending, Inquisitor Backstory, Jedi Mind Trick, Memory Alteration, Mind Control, Much to my surprise, POV Inquisitor, POV Second Person, Plot Twists, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, References to Tatooine Slave Culture, Star Wars: Rebels References, Star Wars: Rebels Spoilers, The Dark Side of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-10-27 05:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17760497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiLarpItsCat/pseuds/HiNerdsItsCat
Summary: You are the Grand Inquisitor. You are the leader of the Inquisitorius: Dark Side users responsible for hunting down any remaining Jedi on behalf of the Empire.When you interrogate the Rebel named Kanan Jarrus, he gives you a tantalizing lead: the opportunity to capture Anakin Skywalker's former apprentice.But finding Ahsoka Tano means confronting your own past... because you used to be a Jedi as well.(Second part added 4/18/19)As Darth Vader realizes exactly how much he had to destroy in order to create the Grand Inquisitor, his perfect servant, the Sith Lord begins to question everything—including his own identity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the _Rebels_ stuff is a little hand-wavey as far as the timeline goes, but it mostly adheres to the events of Seasons 1 and 2.

You are called the Grand Inquisitor.

Your name is no longer relevant.

A long time ago, you were a Jedi. Then things changed and you changed along with them.

You remember the Jedi Temple, back before it burned. It seemed so safe and peaceful back then.

But, of course, now you know that peace is a lie.

Your master has taught you well. You have learned so much.

He was the one who selected you to lead the Inquisitorius: Force-users trained in the Dark Side and tasked with eliminating any remaining Jedi. Like you, many of them were once Jedi themselves, until you found them and changed their minds.

You are very good at changing minds.

The years have passed and, due to your efforts, the ranks of the old Order have dwindled to almost nothing. You can tell that your master is secretly disappointed: he enjoys the excitement of hunting them down, testing his blade against theirs, and ultimately destroying them. He likes it better when they don't surrender.

Occasionally, you decide to indulge him and don't try quite so hard to change your quarry's mind. It's a shame for them, of course, but it's no great loss for you or for the Empire… and if there is the possibility of making your master even a little happy, well, you can at least do that for him.

As the number of surviving Jedi decreases, your focus shifts: enough time has passed that children born after the rise of the Empire were no longer entered into the Kyber if they were Force-sensitive. By now, some are old enough that they could be taken for training.

This was the Emperor's idea, not your master's; in fact, you know that it makes your master highly uncomfortable, as do most things involving younglings. But you know that, in this rare instance, the Emperor is correct: these children are the future of the Empire and must be found before whatever remnants of the Jedi find them first.

It proves to be surprisingly easy: no one really knows about the Force anymore and so no one knows what steps to take to keep their children's gifts hidden from sight. On some of the more loyal planets, they hand them over to you willingly, even gladly.

As for the ones who don't, well… you can be very persuasive.

* * *

Lothal is where things get interesting again. Two young men with lightsabers—one of them still a child, really—have been spotted working with the Rebels. You haven't had anything this diverting since the Sixth Brother died on Raada—almost certainly at the hands of a Jedi, but the trail went cold. Perhaps there is a connection?

The short answer, it turns out, is no. This so-called Rebel cell couldn't keep out of sight if they were in the middle of the Maw Cluster itself. Even you at least take the precaution of wearing a mask to avoid recognition…

Which is why, when you finally identify one of these Jedi misfits as Caleb Dume, he doesn't know who you are.

Oh, this will be very interesting indeed.

* * *

By the time you capture Dume, he had evaded you enough times that it stopped being amusing and instead became merely irritating. Tarkin and his little Intelligence agent try to meddle, but you have been looking forward to this interrogation for so long and you intend to have some fun with it.

Depa Billaba's boy: the Padawan she had right at the end. So yes, he had grown up in the Temple. He would recognize you.

It is just the two of you in his detention cell when you remove your mask.

You smile as you watch Dume's face contort in absolute horror. Yes, he does recognize you.

“Hello, Caleb,” you say amiably. You might be able to change his mind eventually, you think, so you may as well start off by being polite.

Besides, people find you much more terrifying when you appear to be friendly.

“How?” Dume says through a throat that seems to have frozen in shock. “How could you—”

“Caleb,” you say quietly but firmly, “why don't we have a little chat?”

* * *

You are very good at changing people's minds; so good, in fact, that Dume has no idea what you did to him.

(You should really start calling him Kanan Jarrus, you remind yourself. It's the polite thing to do, and it isn't as though you have any grounds to object to people changing their names anyway.)

There is only one question that you need him to answer and in order for him to do that, he needs to go back to the Rebellion. You put up such a convincing fight when they come to rescue him that none of them realize that you let them all escape.

Kanan doesn't remember what you look like anymore—you made sure to remove that information from his mind before you released him.

It was a single question: _tell me who Fulcrum is._

_Just tell me, Kanan. Just a simple question. Find out the answer and then tell me. That's all you have to do: just tell me._

It reminds you of another conversation, one that you had long ago, the first time that you changed someone's mind…

* * *

_“When was the last time you saw him? Do you know where he is?”_

_“No!”_

_“You must help me. He must be found. He must be stopped.”_

_“He would never… he would never…”_

You grow impatient. This is more important than mere opinion. More important than self-delusions.

_“You must tell me. He must be found.”_

But no, more refusals. More denials. More lies.

_“I won't let you kill him!”_

_“Tell me.”_

_“No! Leave!”_

_“Just tell me where he is.”_

_“Get out of here!”_

_“Tell me!”_

_“You're… you're in my mind. I can feel you in my mind! What are you doing?”_

You tell yourself that this is necessary. _“Tell me where he is.”_

_“Please… please don't, please don't make me tell—”_

_“You must tell me.”_

_“Why are you doing this? I trusted you, I trusted you…”_

_“Tell me.”_

After a long, agonizing minute of persuasion, she finally tells you.

In retrospect, that was where it all started for you: the beginning of the end of your life as a Jedi.

* * *

Kanan contacts you sooner than you expected, even at your most optimistic.

He found out the identity of the Rebel agent Fulcrum and the answer is so much better than you ever could have imagined.

Fulcrum is Ahsoka Tano.

Your master will be very pleased.

* * *

You send every Inquisitor you can spare after her. Your master is impatient, but you remind him that someone who had been trained by Anakin Skywalker would obviously be difficult to catch.

He still grumbles about it, but a little more self-consciously than he did before.

You know that finding her would make him happy, and you want to make him happy, but you only have so many people at your command. There are other plans in the works, plans that you cannot alter no matter how frustrated your master becomes.

When the Emperor sends your master to examine a Sith Temple on Malachor, you go with him. Something interesting is going to happen there, you can feel it.

* * *

At long last: Ahsoka Tano. Here on Malachor.

Your master wants to confront her on his own, so you deal with the Rebels that accompanied her. You know that if he needs your help, he will let you know.

The Inquisitors that you brought along are doing so badly that you are actually impatient for Kanan and that boy of his to get around to killing them. But no, Jedi don't do that sort of thing, you remember with a sigh of annoyance. This is taking far too long and you are tempted to just kill these failures yourself… but then you sense something.

A presence you've not felt since…

Maul.

Oh, how you have longed for this day. The Emperor kept you apart, kept his former apprentice confined to the fringe until he vanished—you assumed he was dead, but the Force has granted you this final confrontation.

Destiny is a wonderful thing.

You haven't tested your skills against someone like him in years and it feels like reuniting with an old dance partner. You are glad that he is still a match for you; it would be so disappointing otherwise.

At last, you disarm him (you cut off the whole arm, in fact) and now the dance must end.

You might as well have some fun with this.

You remove your mask and give him a smile.

“Why, hello there,” you say softly.

Maul's eyes widen in horror. “You—”

You cut him in half.

Vertically, this time.

* * *

Ahsoka is still putting up a fight and you wonder if your master is holding back without realizing it.

It is hard to kill one's own apprentice. You certainly couldn't bring yourself to kill yours.

You run into Kanan and that Bridger child. They retrieved the Sith holocron, evidently, and are now trying to escape with it.

“Kanan,” you say, reaching into his mind again, “bring me the holocron.”

Bridger tries to stop him and gets knocked down onto the ground as a result.

Kanan is doing his best to resist your command, which is slowing him down, so you finally just step forward and snatch it out of his hand.

You only have it in your possession for the briefest of moments before Bridger grabs Kanan's lightsaber and cuts the holocron in half.

Along with your mask.

Quite a resourceful child, you think to yourself as you toss the pieces of the mask aside in order to clear your vision. He could be a very promising Inquisitor with the right training.

Bridger finally gets a look at your face and freezes.

You wonder where he recognizes you from. He is too young to have grown up among the Jedi… maybe he saw you in old holos? Or perhaps Kanan has a holocron of his own…

“You're… you're—” he stammers, but before he can finish, the entire structure of the Sith Temple trembles and you hear pieces of it collapsing.

Apparently Ahsoka is being _very_ difficult. You wipe their memory of seeing you, leave the two young men alone in their confusion, and go looking for your master.

She cut open part of his mask. This seems to be a theme today, you think to yourself with a sigh.

“I won't leave you,” you overhear her saying. “Not this time.”

You see your master pause, just for a moment, and then his rage returns. But before he can resume his attack, he sees you standing there.

You don't see your master's face very often. Granted, he doesn't see yours very often either.

What an interesting day this has been.

You clear your throat. “Perhaps we could move this outside before the Temple completely caves in?”

Ahsoka slowly turns around to face you. “Obi-Wan?”

* * *

Your name was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

A long time ago, you were a Jedi. Then things changed and you changed along with them.

Specifically, Anakin Skywalker changed and you changed along with him.

He turned to the Dark Side, massacred everyone he could find in the Jedi Temple, and then went to Mustafar to finish off the remaining Separatist leaders.

Anakin was gone: he had been consumed by Darth Vader. Yoda told you to find him and kill him.

Padmé wouldn't tell you where Anakin had gone, so you reached into her mind and forced her to tell you. You didn’t want to do that to her, but it was necessary. You had no choice.

You left her behind on Coruscant. Perhaps if she had been there with you on Mustafar, you might not have done what you did, but it ended up being you and Anakin and no other witnesses.

You couldn't kill your own apprentice. He was your best friend, your brother, and you still loved him no matter what he had done. If Yoda wanted him dead so badly, he should have done it himself.

But Anakin wasn't coming back, so there was only one other option: you joined him. You knelt, you renounced the Jedi, and you promised to obey him without question.

You fell to the Dark Side willingly. It was the only way you could stay by his side.

Only days later, Padmé died; you were both off-planet at the time. Sidious had gone to such great lengths to keep you all apart that it didn't take a genius to know who was behind her death, even if his hands were supposedly clean.

But because of you, your new master wasn't alone in his grief. And you both agreed that Sidious needed to be destroyed.

However, you also agreed that the Empire needed to survive and that the Jedi Order could not rise again. You needed to amass power before you could make a move.

Your master trained you in the ways of the Dark Side and put you in charge of the Inquisitorius: not just the army of Jedi hunters that Sidious intended them to be, but the beginnings of a new Force tradition, one that would replace both the Jedi and the Sith. One controlled by you and your master.

You both wore masks and kept your identities a secret. The old team of _Kenobi and Skywalker_ was gone, but lived on in the dual menace of Darth Vader and the Grand Inquisitor.

The Rebels were annoying, but they had their uses. It wasn't difficult to feed them information that would focus their attention on parts of the Empire that might challenge you one day. Letting them chip away at Tarkin's pet project has been especially satisfying. You have manipulated the minds of Krennic’s scientists so often that you could probably get them to build a planet-sized piece of conceptual art instead of a battle station, but subtly undermining the project is much more amusing.

Once the Emperor is overthrown, of course, you will no longer need the Rebellion. You are sure you can change their minds about their hopeless little cause, but if not… well, then your master will get to have some fun.

And now, you have Fulcrum: the Rebellion's best agent and informant.

Your master seems to be having trouble being around her for very long, so you conduct the bulk of the… _conversation_ alone.

She won't change her mind, though; she is too stubborn, too much like her former master. You cannot break her resolve, which is a pity, but the knowledge of what became of you and your master breaks her heart.

It would be a shame to have to kill her, but you have another use for her.

You start by telling her the one thing that you never told your master.

* * *

You don't know why he would pick this fetid swamp to live in, but it was probably to punish himself for his failures. You can't argue with that: he failed so many people, including you and your master.

“Inquisitor,” he croaks when you reach his primitive dwelling, “come to kill me at last, have you?”

“Not this time,” you say. Like the Rebels, Yoda still has his uses.

“Why, then, are you here?”

You look at the exterior of his hut without bothering to hide your disgust. “I sent Ahsoka to Alderaan.”

Yoda freezes, ever so slightly. “Why?” he asks.

“You know why,” you say, annoyed at his evasion. “Bit of a raw deal, incidentally: sending the other one to grow up on a desiccated world controlled by the Hutts while she gets to be a princess.”

This is the same person who once ordered you to kill your dearest friend. Watching the hope wither in his eyes is extremely enjoyable.

“Don't worry,” you continue, “he doesn't know. I've been saving it as a surprise.”

You don't like keeping secrets from your master, but you know that if he found out that Padmé survived long enough to give birth to twins, he wouldn't be able to hide it from the Emperor. Therefore, you can't tell him until right before you make your move; by that point, it will be too late for the Emperor to do anything about it.

Finding them took a few years, but you did it. Your master did not make you the Grand Inquisitor just because he trusted you—it was also because you are extremely talented in this area. You once tracked a bounty hunter across the galaxy to a planet that did not exist on any map; locating a pair of children was comparatively simple. Besides, Yoda and Organa did not cover their tracks very well when they tried to get Padmé away from Coruscant before she died as a result of whatever Sith alchemy Sidious had used to kill her.

“You needn't worry about yourself either,” you add. “Feel free to rot in the mud for as long as you like.” You scrape a little of the aforementioned mud off of your shoes. “I will still check in on you once in awhile, of course. Perhaps one day I’ll bring my master here with me and let _him_ decide what to do with you.”

Yoda’s eyes narrow. “Your master, he is not. Forgotten your responsibilities to him, you have.”

“Things change.” You give him a smile. “Let go of the past… weren’t you always saying things like that? Keep your mind on the present: for example, at this exact moment you are the last of the Jedi. You failed, and when you die no one will remember you.”

You turn to head back to your ship but give him one final look of pity. “A shame that you weren’t able to kill Sidious. That would have made things much simpler.”

“Consume you, the Dark Side will,” Yoda warns you. “Doomed to failure, your plan is.”

“Perhaps,” you say. “We will have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You leave him with his despair in the prison of his own making.

* * *

Tatooine is a desert, but you vastly prefer it to the decay and filth of Dagobah. A little sand rubbed into a coarse brown cloak, a beard and hair in disarray, and a few unsettling incidents with the locals are all that you need to pass yourself off as a crazy hermit.

He finally visits the town of Anchorhead on your fourth day of waiting.

When you were here the last time, he was so young… even younger than Anakin was when you first met. Now, nearly grown, he looks so much like his father that your breath almost catches in your throat when you see him.

Your master will be so happy to meet him—to meet both of them.

Somewhere on Alderaan, a teenage princess is receiving her first lessons in using the Force. Ahsoka will likely do her best to keep the girl confined to the Light Side of the Force, but it will be easy to change Leia’s mind and complete her training when you finally retrieve her.

With Luke, however, hidden on this backwater world where no civilized Imperial would ever think to look, you can be a little more direct.

A tiny gesture with the Force damages a part of his landspeeder's ignition. You are perfectly placed to offer him assistance.

“Hello there,” you say. Without a mask, it is easier for you to rely on your charm rather than just the Force. You can appear warm, friendly, and approachable, even if you _are_ dressed as an unwashed vagrant.

You help him fix his speeder and then invite him to join you for a drink at Anchorhead's sorry excuse for a cantina.

He is bright but so innocent. Had Anakin ever been this wide-eyed?

You introduce yourself as Obi-Wan Kenobi, a friend of his father's.

He is immediately excited. “You knew my father?”

“Yes,” you say, pleased with the success of your opening gambit. Of course he would want to know more about his parents. “I was once a Jedi Knight, the same as your father.”

“What's a Jedi?” he asks.

“For over a thousand generations, the Jedi were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic… before the dark times, before they became corrupt and had to be stopped.”

“You survived?”

“Your father and I left the Jedi Order before they turned on the Republic,” you say. “I came here to find you, to train you in the ways of the Force. You have the potential to become as powerful as your father.” You place Anakin's old lightsaber on the table in front of him. “And one day you will see him again, I promise.”

He is utterly captivated. Your master will be so pleased.

“Now, Luke,” you say with a smile, “why don't we have a little chat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music: Amanda Palmer, "I Will Follow You Into the Dark (Cover of Death Cab for Cutie)"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the first chapter is a complete story in itself, I had an idea for a parallel/second chapter that gives the characters a little more closure.

Your name is Anakin Skywalker.

No, that isn't your name anymore. You were renamed, reborn, remade.

Your name is Darth Vader.

You have become so strong in the Dark Side of the Force that you will never feel pain. You will never feel fear. You will never feel powerless.

No, that isn't true: even after you were reforged in the fires of the Dark Side, you felt hurt and afraid and powerless.

It was the day that your wife died.

No, not just “died”—murdered. She was murdered.

By your master, Darth Sidious.

No, he isn't really your master. You might kneel before him, follow his orders, and say “yes master” and “no master” like a good little Sith apprentice, but in your heart you know that you are free, just like you were on Tatooine a long time ago (no, not _you—_ ).

You are not a slave. You are a person.

Perhaps if you had been alone, you would have fallen into despair after Padmé died (no, not died: murdered). Perhaps you would have given up, given in, and let Sidious have complete control over you. Perhaps you would have believed him when he denied having anything to do with killing her.

But you aren't alone.

In another life, you were his apprentice. He raised you and stood by your side. You were like brothers.

Only now, instead of being the learner, you are the master.

It was everything you ever wanted. Sidious told you that you would have to kill all of the Jedi, and you knew that included your former master. You didn't want to kill him but you knew that you had to: he was a Jedi—the perfect Jedi—and a tool of the Council.

But then he did the unexpected and you got everything that you wanted. You didn't have to choose.

You still remember him kneeling before you for the first time on Mustafar. You remember the resolve in his voice as he renounced the Jedi and vowed to obey you without question. Aside from the day you married Padmé, it was the greatest moment of your life.

After all those years of following _him_ and craving _his_ approval… now _you_ are the one in control.

Everything that Sidious taught you, you taught to him. His devotion to the Dark Side is unwavering and his devotion to you is even more so. He has done everything you have ordered him to do. Without failure, without complaint, without hesitation.

You renamed him the Grand Inquisitor. He hides his face behind a mask, just as you do, and hunts the remaining Jedi like a silent predator, ruthless and efficient.

He has killed and tortured and corrupted the same Jedi that he used to pass every day in the halls of the Temple. Often, right before he starts working on them, he lifts his mask and lets them see his face. He enjoys watching their reactions of shock and horror just before he inflicts the punishment that they deserve. You enjoy it too.

His talent for mental manipulation is so impressive that you wonder why he never displayed it before. Sometimes he uses it to persuade promising Force-users to join the Inquisitorius, other times he uses it to break the minds of his victims and leave them in agony. In both instances, he gives them a mischievous grin while he does it.

But whenever he looks at you, there is nothing in his eyes but obedience and adoration.

You never feel more powerful than you do when he looks at you like that.

He is the perfect servant.

* * *

Anakin Skywalker was born on a filthy ball of dust over thirty-five years ago but you, Darth Vader, were born on Coruscant sixteen years ago. With the exception of your blood-soaked first day, you have never known a time without the Inquisitor.

You have been grinding down the Rebels and the Jedi together for sixteen years. You have experienced nothing but victory at each other’s side.

You are both getting older—his hair is going grey and you are finding lines on your face that weren’t there before—but soon, so very soon, you will rise up and slay your master and then you will be free.

The Inquisitor has manipulated the Rebels beautifully by turning their attention toward your rivals within the Empire. He is now focused on finding one of their most valuable assets: the agent known as Fulcrum. With Fulcrum under his control, the Rebels will do whatever you ask… even line up to be slaughtered once they are no longer needed.

Everything is going according to plan until the day the Inquisitor tells you that Fulcrum is Ahsoka Tano.

Your old apprentice—no, not yours. Not _yours._

She was Anakin’s apprentice. Anakin, who had no idea what to do with her and could barely take care of himself, let alone a teenager, and who failed her so completely that she never became a Knight.

Perhaps you could do better.

 _Careful_ , you remind yourself: she is a Rebel. You may have to kill her. You should be prepared to do so.

But some tiny part of you, a part that you have desperately tried to drown out because it still won’t let the Dark in, secretly hopes that you won’t have to.

* * *

It looks like you might not have a choice in the matter: she refuses to join you when you finally confront her on Malachor.

She sounds exactly like him (not you, _him),_ how _he_ used to sound, just as stubborn as you (no, _him),_ and you think that if you can kill her, maybe you can kill the last traces of _him_ inside of you.

The mask makes it easier for you to be someone else, which is why everything goes to hell when she cuts part of it open. There is air on your face and she can look you in the eye and you can’t help but say her name, not knowing whether the person speaking is you or the person who you used to be. The feeling gets worse when she tells you that she won’t leave you, “not this time.”

Before you can respond, before you can gather your rage and finish her off, you see the Inquisitor standing behind her. He isn’t wearing his mask either.

You don’t see his face very often: you are both busy and rarely have time alone and, even then, you usually keep your masks on.

But there he is: the man who used to be Obi-Wan Kenobi, and for one dizzying second all you can think is: _This is like it used to be. Back when everything was better._

_Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and me._

No, not you—

_Me._

You are a shadow, you carry a dragon in your heart, your name is—

_Anakin Skywalker._

Vader is still there, he is still inside you, and you’re not sure that you _aren’t_ still him, but you are also someone else, someone that you thought had disappeared.

The Inquisitor reminds you that the Sith Temple is collapsing around you, and you see Ahsoka's eyes widen as the realization hits her.

She turns to face him, and the name “Obi-Wan” is barely out of her mouth when the Inquisitor knocks her unconscious with a sudden vicious strike using the pommel of his lightsaber.

His expression didn't change at all.

On your way back to the ship, carrying your former apprentice over your shoulder, you pass the gruesome remains of a familiar-looking Zabrak.

The Inquisitor's expression does change, very slightly, to an amused smile, but he says nothing and you aren't sure what to ask.

* * *

Being around Ahsoka has already unbalanced you, so you leave her in the hands of the Inquisitor and try not to think about what he might be doing to her mind.

Something is bothering you. Something that the encounter in the Temple uncovered and you can't bury again.

The Inquisitor informs you that he and Ahsoka came to an “agreement” and that she is now on her way to complete a long-term mission for you.

You don't know what the mission is and you suddenly realize that you don't want to know. You also notice that he said the mission was for _you._ As if he was carrying out your orders.

You realize that he _is_ carrying out your orders and you continue to feel uncomfortable long after he departs.

You don't know what he did to Ahsoka but it was on your orders. Everything he does is for you, because you ordered him to do it, because you are his—

His master.

Not like you were with Ahsoka (no, not _you)._ She was your apprentice. She wasn't a servant.

 _He_ is a servant. He is _your_ servant. You are the one in control.

You are not a slave. You are a master.

 _Exactly,_ says the part of you that lives in the shadow of the Dark Side and always tells you that you are doing the right thing. _The only way to not be a slave is to be a master._

But it keeps eating away at you; something that you wish the shadow inside you would drown out:

What you are doing is monstrous.

You, Anakin Skywalker (yes, _Anakin_ , you snarl at your shadow), son of Shmi and born on Tatooine… you became something you despise more than anything in the galaxy:

You became a _Depur,_ a slaveholder. In every story you grew up hearing, about the tricksters and the krayt dragons and the stolen pieces of the moon, the villain was always the same: _Depur_ and his men and the chains that they carried.

You're one of them now. You have a slave of your own.

He was your best friend. You made your best friend into your slave.

How could you have done this?

 _You_ _had_ _to do it,_ the shadow whispers. _The only way to not be a slave is to be—_

 _STOP IT!_ you scream inside your head. _That's a lie!_

 _You were fine with it all this time,_ your shadow hisses. _You knew it was the right thing to do, because you_ _always_ _do the right thing—_

—and if you didn't do the right thing in that situation, then what else have you been doing wrong?

You have killed so many people—even _younglings_. You thought you were doing the right thing.

What if you weren't?

Your breathing starts to speed up and you wonder if you are somehow on the verge of a panic attack. That should be impossible: the Dark Side made sure that you will never be afraid again… but what if the thing that you are afraid of is yourself?

As you desperately try to bring yourself back under control _(you are in control now,_ the shadow whispers), you see something that you could not possibly be seeing right now.

His appearance shifts between all of your memories of him: a young man who only weeks before was a Padawan himself, an older man in the armor of a general, a man wearing the tan robes of a Jedi Master, sitting in his seat on the Council, standing by your side with a lightsaber drawn and ready, chastising you for your impatience—he is all of the Obi-Wans that you ever knew, flickering back and forth like a faulty holo display.

None of them look happy with you.

“Sixteen years and it _finally_ occurs to you that murdering that many people might be the sort of thing that a villain would do?” he asks. He looks almost incredulous, but his voice is the same one that always made you seethe with resentment because you hated being wrong and hated that he was lecturing you about it, as though he had never made a mistake in his entire life.

“But that was part of the fun, wasn't it?” he says. “Ordering him to do so many horrible things—the _‘Perfect Jedi’_ fallen so far that his former self wouldn't even recognize him.”

Obi-Wan seems to be replying to your thoughts without you even saying anything, and it begins to occur to you that you're probably just talking to yourself. Still, it doesn't keep you from objecting out loud: “I didn't force him to join me. He offered. He volunteered.”

“What did you think he was going to do?” Obi-Wan demands. “Draw his lightsaber and cut you to pieces? Joining you was the only way he could stay by your side… and you exploited that for all you could get.”

Your discomfort grows. “I didn't _make_ him—”

“Yes, you did! From the first time he dropped to his knees before you, you made him do everything _._ _Everything_ he did was on your orders!” Obi-Wan's tirade seems to be hitting its stride, and even though you wish he would just stop talking, you don't know how to interrupt him. “He probably despised himself at first, you know, but he _had_ promised to obey you, so he let you chip away at him until the day he was so far gone that he _helped_ you make him into a monster.”

You don't even know how to argue with these accusations. They're not from Obi-Wan, not really: they're your own thoughts, your own guilt. The Dark Side was supposed to keep you from feeling guilty and now you feel like you're drowning.

“It was Jocasta Nu who probably broke him for good.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You remember what happened, don't you? How you wanted that information so badly, and you ordered him to get it out of her. He tortured her—on _your_ orders—for… how long was it?” It’s a rhetorical question, and you hated when he used them to scold you, but you're too distracted by his words to be irritated. “Days, at least. He tortured her until there was nothing left. Without hesitation or remorse. Because you told him to.”

You do remember that incident. It wasn't the first Jedi he had interrogated—it wasn't even the first former friend he had interrogated (that honor had gone to Luminara Unduli)—but it was the worst one by far. You remember being so pleased at his skill, his focus, his obedience—so pleased that it never occurred to you that he might have been conflicted about it. After he was done with her, he left the detention block almost glowing with the Dark Side and you were so proud of what you had created that it never occurred to you to wonder what you had destroyed in the process.

Now you are wondering, for the first time in years, if you did the right thing.

 _Of course you did,_ the shadow whispers. _She was a Jedi, a traitor to the Empire, you had to do it._

You ordered _him_ to do it, though. You didn't have to, but you did because you wanted to watch him obey you. Because it made you feel powerful.

And it was true: he _was_ different after that. He started doing more things, things that he knew would make you happy, without you even having to order him to do it.

 _And wasn't that wonderful?_ the shadow asks. _Didn't it feel perfect?_

 _Yes,_ you admit. It did feel perfect. It was exactly what you wanted. You wanted to feel powerful, you wanted to have power over _him…_ but now you realize that the only way that you could get power over Obi-Wan was by turning him into someone else entirely.

The perfect Jedi, now the perfect servant. His talent for mental manipulation must have been so strong that he was able to reshape his own mind into what you wanted it to be. He changed himself into the Grand Inquisitor because that was what you wanted him to be.

You made your best friend destroy himself and bind up what was left in chains.

But now, here you are, not only feeling remorse but also feeling like someone else. Vader is still there, and this is still everything that _he_ ever wanted, but you are also Anakin again and you realize that this isn't what _you_ want.

Although… if you can be the person you used to be, why can't he be the person _he_ used to be?

* * *

You summon the Inquisitor to your quarters. This isn't something that you can let anyone else know about. As far as the rest of the Empire is concerned, you are Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker is dead.

After hallucinating so many of his past selves, seeing what he looks like now is almost a shock. In spite of Padmé's efforts over the years, you never really figured out what the point was of wearing something other than a uniform. All you knew was that you wanted to wear anything _but_ Jedi robes now that you left that old life behind. Black seemed easiest.

He used to wear light colors; even his old armor during the war was white.

It isn't anymore. No brown cloak, no sand-colored tunic. Nothing but cold black, even the mask.

The mask was necessary—necessary for both of you. A clean slate, one free of the past and your reputations and the expectations that everyone had for you. It was so much easier to be someone else when you could hide your face.

But now you remind yourself that masks aren't the same as faces. Masks can be removed.

You have already taken yours off and order him to do the same.

You see him again for the second time in only a handful of days.

All you used to notice were the grey strands in his hair and the way that he looked at you. The way that he is looking at you right now.

Nothing but obedience and adoration.

 _He will do anything you say,_ the shadow starts whispering again. _Whatever you want. Whatever you need._

But it isn't the Inquisitor that you need right now.

You need your old master back because you have no idea what to do anymore.

You have hurt and killed so many people and you thought that you were doing the right thing, that you were _both_ doing the right thing, but now you don't know what the right thing even is.

Obi-Wan always knew, though. Maybe he still does, behind the horrible tangle of his corruption to the Dark Side and your influence.

The Inquisitor's head is bowed. He is waiting for your orders, just as he always is.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you say, unsure of how to begin.

“Yes, master?” he asks politely. His expression doesn't change.

You wish that it would.

“Can we…” You struggle to find the right words. “Can we drop the act? Just for a minute?” You can't believe you're saying any of this out loud. “It's just us here. We don't have to be Vader and the Inquisitor right now, not when it's just us. Could we be Anakin and Obi-Wan again, just for a little while?” Your throat is starting to close up and you realize that it's because you're holding back tears. “Because I really need Obi-Wan here right now.”

He stares at you for a moment, still expressionless, and you sink down onto the bed and put your head in your hands. Everything is falling apart and all you want right now is to pretend that you aren't a villain, that you haven't been a villain all this time.

He sits down next to you and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Anakin,” he says, and it's _his_ voice, warm and weary and a little bit exasperated, “I'm always here. I haven't gone anywhere.”

You practically throw yourself into Obi-Wan's arms as you wrap him in a desperate hug. “I knew it,” you say, so relieved that you can barely see, can barely speak, “I knew you were still in there, I knew that it was just a part we were playing…”

“You usually miss the obvious, don't you?” he says, trying to sound disapproving but also obviously doing his best not to smile. You still have him crushed in a hug and therefore can't see his face, but you've known him for so long that you don't need to look.

“After all this is over,” you say, trying not to sound like you're a little kid again, “after we kill Sidious, I want to go back to being _us_ again. I'm sick of all of this. I don't want to be Vader, I just want to _rest_.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan says, still trapped in your arms but finally starting to relax. You can almost see his eyes rolling in fond annoyance. “Whatever you decide, Anakin, I will be there.” He returns the hug finally. “All I want is to make you happy.”

Something about his words makes you uncomfortable and you don't know why.

_Isn't this what I wanted?_

You pull away from him and look into his eyes.

They're his eyes—the same color, the same brightness, the same mischievous twinkle in them—

But behind that twinkle is something completely blank. Something dead.

This isn't Obi-Wan, you realize as your stomach turns into a sarlacc pit.

It's the Inquisitor, following your orders.

“Stop,” you say in a horrified whisper. Right now, if you don't whisper you're going to scream instead. “You can stop.”

The warmth leaves his eyes instantly and his expression is once again that of the Inquisitor. You realize with a shudder that he must have done the reverse just as quickly.

He was just obeying his master.

You feel like you're going to throw up.

“You can go now,” you manage to say through a throat that is once again closing.

He stands and inclines his head. “As you wish, master,” the Inquisitor says. He puts on his mask and leaves.

You curl up on your bed, hug your knees to your chest, and sob.

“Did you really think it was going to be that easy?” the Obi-Wan from your memories says, looking down at you from beside your bed. He doesn't bother to hide his scorn; you know that you deserve it anyway. “You can't just order someone to _stop_ following your orders. The logistical nightmare would probably make that old R2 of yours short-circuit.”

You smile a little at that, but then he continues: “Really, at this point, I don't think he's even _able_ to disobey your orders.”

You don't want to hear that part.

“I didn't want this,” you say through clenched teeth. “This was what Vader wanted.”

“Oh yes, blame Vader, certainly,” Obi-Wan says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Pin all this on him.”

“He's the one who wanted a servant.”

“But you're the one that wanted a slave,” he says. He appears to reconsider his words. “No, not a slave—they can still resist. What you wanted was a puppet. A toy.”

“No!” you protest, but the memory of him keeps talking and getting increasingly angry with you:

“What did you _think_ was going to happen? You killed him. You saw his eyes: there's nothing left inside. All he is now is a corpse that follows you around repeating _'_ _yes master'_ and _'_ _no master_ _.'_ And you have the gall to pretend that it's _friendship.”_

“I didn't want this,” is all you can say, over and over as you try to keep yourself in one piece. “I didn't want it to be this way.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “Come now, Anakin… of course you wanted this. He will never leave you. He will never betray you. He will always be thinking about you—nothing but you and how to make you happy. Isn't this what you've _always_ wanted?”

 _Yes,_ whispers Vader, or the dragon, or the shadow, or whatever it is that isn't you. _You'll never be alone. You have power now. You can make him stay with you forever._

“How do I get him back?” you cry.

“You're supposed to be the Chosen One,” Obi-Wan says as he fades away. “Figure it out yourself.”

* * *

The Inquisitor leaves Coruscant and you don't bother to ask where he went.

Whatever he is doing, whatever terrifying actions he is conducting on your behalf… you don't want to know what they are.

Some part of you wants to summon him back to your side, and you almost do before you realize that it's what Vader wants.

 _He can pretend to be Obi-Wan again,_ the shadow hisses. _You can have both of them—the Inquisitor_ _and_ _Obi-Wan—anytime you want._

But you know that it would just the the Inquisitor wearing another mask. It wouldn't be the real thing.

 _So what?_ the shadow says. _Does it matter, as long as he's convincing enough?_

You want to say that it matters, that what you want is the _real_ Obi-Wan, but it also occurs to you that maybe you _don't_ want that, because the real Obi-Wan would be furious with you.

The one from your memories is angry enough.

You can even imagine what he would say: _You were the Chosen One!_

_It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them!_

_Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!_

And the worst part is that he would be correct.

You thought that you were doing the right thing. You were _so sure_ that you were doing the right thing, that you were still a hero.

But heroes don't kill children. Heroes don't torture people. Heroes don't destroy people just for disagreeing with them.

Heroes don't do what you did to Obi-Wan.

Heroes don't serve Sith Lords.

You don't know if you'll ever find a way to deal with all of the things you have done over the last sixteen years, but you do know that there is one thing that you can do, because it is something you have been planning for just as long.

You were supposed to be the Chosen One.

It is time to destroy the Sith once and for all.

* * *

The Inquisitor is gone for far too long, and by the time he returns you are nearly crawling out of your skin.

He doesn't object to your decision to finally put your plan into action (he might not be able to, you think with a shudder), though he does point out that there are still pieces that you wanted to have in place first.

You don't care about that. You just want to get it over with.

You vow that this will be the last time you ever give him orders. Once this mission is complete, you can make everything the way it should be, including him.

 _Including the galaxy,_ Vader adds.

 _One thing at a time_ , you reply. First you need to confront Sidious.

* * *

You are relieved that you don't have to do this alone. Your master (though not for much longer) has always known how to manipulate you, how to make you hate being Anakin Skywalker, and how to warp your sense of right and wrong.

At least you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that some of this mess isn't entirely your fault.

Your servant (though not for much longer) trained his Inquisitors well: before you arrive at the Imperial Palace, they neutralize the Emperor's guards and move in on the Moffs and admirals that you summoned to Coruscant. Sidious has no idea that he has been pinned in place, ready to be deposed in a neat and tidy coup.

He figures it out quickly, though, because you don't bother to hide your defiance. You tell him that he has ruled for long enough.

The Inquisitor is standing only a few steps behind you and you have never felt more powerful than you do right now.

You expected Sidious to resist—it would be a disappointment if he didn't—but it isn't Force lightning or his other terrible Sith powers that he attacks you with.

Instead, he rips the masks off both of your faces and tells you something that stabs you like a saber to your heart:

You have children. They had been hidden from you all this time.

The Inquisitor knew about them.

And he didn't tell you.

“Do you see now, my apprentice?” Sidious says. “He was never really on our side. He was always a Jedi, deep down, fooling you and undermining our work.” He waves a hand and the Inquisitor is forced down onto his knees. “He was always a traitor.”

You look down at the Inquisitor. “Is it true? Did you keep this information from me?”

He answers you immediately. “Yes, master. I kept it from you.” His voice is so quiet when he says it.

You can feel the hatred inside of you growing, burning as hot as the lava on Mustafar the day that he first swore to obey you.

“It isn't your fault, Lord Vader,” Sidious reassures you. “He twisted the relationship that you once had, just to suit his own ends. But you'll know better next time, won't you?”

You nod, slowly. Sidious has always been good at reassuring you and telling you that you are doing the right thing.

And now that you know the truth, everything has become clear.

“Thank you, my master,” you say. “At last, I understand.”

He smiles. He can sense the murderous rage in your blood. “Then you know what to do, don't you?”

“I do,” you confirm.

_The Inquisitor lied to me. He kept secrets from me._

_He defied me._

Of course you know what to do.

For the first time in what feels like a lifetime but is really more like a few weeks, you and Vader agree on something.

A lightsaber might fail. It would take too long to draw it and get within range, and you would lose the advantage of surprise. No, this has to be sudden.

It will be clean, at least. You could do it quickly. Even though you despise him for what he has done, he was there for you when you felt like you had no one else. In memory of the friendship you once had, you can give him this death.

Sidious smiles wider. He knows that you made a decision.

The Inquisitor hasn't moved a muscle.

_He defied me._

Time to finish this.

You reach for the Force as you clench your fist.

It isn't the slow strangulation that you usually employ. This is instantaneous, as you intended. The sound of his neck snapping is actually audible, even from here.

Sidious slumps over on his throne, head hanging at an unnatural angle.

He is dead at last and you are finally free, inside and out.

You look back at the Inquisitor. He is still kneeling.

You might be free, but he is not.

“Get up,” you say. You are so tired of this. You are so tired of everything. You feel like you could sleep for a solid year.

“I understand if you wish you punish me,” he says as he stands. He doesn't even sound upset—he sounds almost pleasant, actually. “I lied to you—”

“Yes!” you cry. “That's it exactly! You _disobeyed_ me!”

The Inquisitor looks confused. “Yes, master, I—”

“I didn't think that was possible!” You can barely hide your excitement. “That means that you still have free will! You could still come back!”

You haven't felt this hopeful in so long.

“Master, there are more important things to consider right now,” he says. He doesn’t look you in the eyes. “The Emperor is dead and we can finally—”

“I don't want this!” you shout, almost joyously. “I thought I did… but I don't. I just want to…” This isn't a phrase you ever thought you would use: “I just want to go home.”

He still looks puzzled. “To Tatooine?” he asks.

Actually, even Tatooine doesn't sound so bad right now, but that wasn't really what you meant. “Not a place,” you say as you try to figure it out, “but a time: before all this happened. Back when we were heroes.”

You doubt that you could ever really be a hero again, not after everything you have done, but maybe with him at your side it wouldn't be impossible.

He is silent for a long time, before finally asking “What is it that you wish me to do, master?”

“Stop!” you snap. “Stop calling me that! I'm not your master. I never should have done what I did to you. I—”

 _But you did the right thing!_ the shadow screams.

You ignore it. “I'm sorry.” You want to look at the ground, you want to hide your face, you just want this to be over and for everything to be all right again, but you force yourself to look at him so that you can remind yourself of what you did. “All you did was love me, and all I did in return was hurt you. I'm so sorry…”

He is silent again but this time it seems to be for a different reason. Hope flares in your chest.

“You're not my servant,” you say. “You're Obi-Wan Kenobi. Not like that time in my quarters,” you add quickly, “but deep down, underneath all the horrible things I made you do. The real you. The Dark Side hasn't driven it from you fully. Remember,” you plead. “Remember who you are.”

He starts to tremble. His hands are shaking and his eyes seem to be very far away.

“I miss you so much,” you say, and you are fairly certain that you're crying at this point. Sidious’ corpse is still here and you really should do _something_ about the fact that someone needs to be in charge of the Empire and you would prefer that it not be you, but you have to fix this first.

You can see him struggling, trying to fight his way out of the prison he had put himself into (all for you), and you hold on to that hope. “Please,” you whisper. “Please come back.”

His next words are not in the voice of the Inquisitor, nor the voice of your old master, but something else, something wounded and lashing out: “I refuse to be him again. He was weak.”

You want to object and tell him that he’s wrong, that Obi-Wan was anything but weak, that he was one of the strongest people you ever knew… but then something hits you like a bolt of electricity.

You say what you wish someone had said to you years ago. The words that might have changed everything: “There is nothing wrong with being weak.”

That was it. That was the truth that no one ever seemed willing to acknowledge: not the Jedi, not the Sith, and certainly not yourself. Ever since the day someone uttered the words “The Chosen One” within your hearing, you thought that power would solve everything. You learned about the Force and you wanted more power. Your mother died and you wanted more power. You became a general and you wanted more power. You wanted to be a Jedi Master _because_ you wanted more power. You dreamed about Padmé’s death and you wanted more power. You thought it would fix everything.

It didn’t.

You realize that the people you loved the most were people who never obsessed over power the way that you did: Padmé, your mother, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan. They didn’t love you because you were powerful; they just loved you because you were you. Even if you were weak, they would love you.

One of them loved you so much that he sacrificed everything just to help you in your quest to become more powerful… even though that quest was completely stupid.

There, at last, is the other truth. It isn’t an entirely pleasant truth, but you say it anyway: “If you want to stay the Inquisitor… or if you want to be your old self, or a completely different self, then that's up to you.” You take a deep breath. “I will love you no matter what.”

There is a very long silence and you realize that what happens next is going to be entirely up to him. It is entirely out of your control now.

Freedom is never _given_. You know that. It must be demanded.

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know who I am right now. It will take time.”

“That’s fine,” you reassure him, “that’s completely fine.”

“However,” he says, and you can almost see something inside of him trying to not say what he is about to say, “while I figure that out, I cannot be near you. I need to leave.”

Something inside of you twists like the hull of a crashing ship. You want to protest, you want to beg him to stay, to argue that you need him, to insist that you can help him—and the the dragon in your heart who once whispered to you that everything dies is now hissing that _you'll always be alone_ and _isn't that enough of a reason to make him stay?_

But that isn't how it works. He would stay if you asked him, but it would really be an order and it would make everything that you just said to him into a lie.

You realize that you don’t need him to be with you in order to love him. When Padmé died, you didn’t stop loving her. When your mother died, you didn’t stop loving her.

 _“No matter where you go, my love will always be with you.”_ The words she spoke when you left Tatooine for the first time.

It’s true.

You nod, even though the dragon is still whispering and clawing frantically at your heart. “I understand.” You were inside his head for so long, you ordered him to do so many horrible things, and you warped him into your own personal monster so that you wouldn’t feel alone. _Kenobi & Skywalker_, _Darth Vader & the Grand Inquisitor… _ ever since Qui-Gon died, Obi-Wan has lived on one side of an ampersand, with you always on the other side. You are the last person in the galaxy who could help him break free of that.

You're heartbroken but, compared to everything you have done—especially to him—you're getting off easy. If there was any justice in the galaxy, he would cut you into pieces and burn you alive. You would more than deserve it.

“Before you go,” you can't help asking, “would you be willing to tell me about them?”

He almost smiles. “Their names are Luke and Leia. They're on their way here, in fact.”

* * *

You have no idea what kind of first impression you're making. You feel like you've been hit in the head.

You don't know what Ahsoka has told them about you—told Leia, at least, during the months that she spent teaching her. Neither of them seem terrified, though, which is reassuring.

Obi-Wan met Luke and Leia at their respective ships, guided them to where you were waiting, and then disappeared.

For almost thirty years, he was at your side, and you feel his absence like a missing limb (something that you are already familiar with in a very literal sense), but at least you have something else to focus on.

They are almost adults, almost the same age you were when the Clone Wars started. Luke, who knows all the folktales that you were raised with and is still finding grains of sand in the folds of his clothes; Leia, who grew up hearing stories about Senator Amidala even though she didn't know that they were related, and who already has a look in her eye that you know will spell trouble for anyone who dares to tell her ‘no.’

You don't know where Ahsoka went. Maybe she's with Obi-Wan somewhere, trying to figure out who she is as well.

After a few days on Coruscant, Leia wants to know what is going to happen now that the Emperor is gone. There is still a power vacuum and it doesn't occur to you until your daughter tells you that no one has tried to take over because they all assume that you're in charge.

_You are in control now—_

No, that isn't true. You are not in control of anyone, and you have never felt freer in your life.

You admit to your children that you have no idea what to do.

The twins exchange a knowing look and Leia tells you that she and Luke have a few ideas.

* * *

You can't be a hero again, especially after everyone learns that Darth Vader is actually Anakin Skywalker, but you try your best to not be a villain either.

You give the Senate a little more autonomy again, partly out of sentimentality and partly because Leia refused to give you a moment's peace until you agreed.

You get your revenge on Bail Organa for taking your daughter away by forcing him to be Chancellor of the Senate. He isn't in change of the Empire, of course—you are still very reluctantly filling that role—but he answers directly to you and knows that any gridlock or corruption in the Senate will have consequences for him personally. Leia isn't sure if she approves of this arrangement or not, but she _is_ happy to see her adopted father more often.

She also harangues you into granting the Rebels amnesty and offering them the opportunity to send a representative to the Senate. You don't want to do that but it is very difficult to tell your daughter no.

Living on Tatooine, Luke had never heard of Darth Vader, but Leia had. She doesn’t confront you about any of the things you have done over the years, but you still get the sense that she’s judging you. To your surprise, you find yourself trying to live up to her expectations. Sometimes you even succeed.

Luke ends up being as interested in politics as you are—which is to say not at all—but it turns out that you also share a love of flying. You're relieved to have something to do that doesn't involve running what appears to be transforming into a constitutional monarchy, and even more relieved to have someone to share it with. He is so eager to learn from you: about flying and about the Force.

You are also relieved that Luke survived those months of training by the Inquisitor without any lasting psychological issues. You eventually realize that even if he did train Luke to use the Dark Side, it wouldn't have stuck because your son is almost incapable of hating anything for very long.

You don't know whether what you're wielding is the Dark Side or the Light Side and you suspect that it doesn't matter in the end. Maybe you found some kind of balance after all.

The shadow inside of you still whispers but over time you find ways to ignore it.

Ahsoka turns up in a very surprising place: she followed the remaining members of the Inquisitorius to Mustafar and is now trying to undo some of the damage that you and the Grand Inquisitor caused when you recruited all those former Jedi to your side. It turns out that Obi-Wan contacted her when he left Coruscant and persuaded her that it was where she could do the most good. You have seen the results of her work with Leia and you agree that she is in the right place. You hear that she is trying to guide the Inquisitors to a middle ground between the remains of the Jedi and the lingering debris of the Sith. They aren't hunting Jedi or Force-sensitive children anymore, so all you can do is hope that none of them make as big of a mess of things as you did.

Tarkin's project is shut down and you give the rest of the Imperial Navy a very thorough review. The ability to destroy a planet is overrated, in your opinion.

Time passes. The galaxy returns to something resembling normalcy. You are still the Emperor even though you would rather not be.

You miss Padmé every single day, especially when you're stuck dealing with some political mess that you know she would have solved effortlessly.

You wish that your mother could have met her grandchildren. At Luke's suggestion, you start to figure out ways for the Empire to actually make life better on planets like Tatooine instead of just keeping everything the same in the name of maintaining order.

You miss Obi-Wan. The feeling of absence is still there but you eventually get used to it. What you realized right before he left is still true: you can love him even if he isn't there.

But your heart still overflows with happiness on the day he finally comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The references to Depur and other Tatooine folktales are from Fialleril's "Double Agent Vader" series.
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> Music: Iain Ballamy, "If I Apologised"


End file.
